


Everybody Loves Somebody

by thelastgreenpringle



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27344146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelastgreenpringle/pseuds/thelastgreenpringle
Summary: Everybody Loves Somebody (Sometimes)Soulmate AU where your soulmate will write something on their skin and it’ll appear on yours
Relationships: Faustus Blackwood & Zelda Spellman, Faustus Blackwood/Zelda Spellman
Comments: 12
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title by Dean Martin’s song (yes i will love classics til the day i die)

Zelda lay silently on the bed of her Ritz suite, a warlock sound asleep beside her. She turned on the bedside lamp, raising her arm, squinting to see the ancient sigil haphazardly drawn on the inside of her wrist earlier in the day, the pitch-black ink a stark contrast from her pale skin.

Zelda wondered who it was from. She knew she could simply ask. Write and maybe she would get a reply, at least that was how the mortals did it. But a part of her didn’t want to know about whoever was on the other end of the line. Didn’t want to be disappointed.

Her kind never truly believed in the phenomenon, unlike the mortals who so gladly took part in it, along with the witch exception of her sister. Witches had spells that worked the same way, the only difference was that they were by choice. They were never truly keen on tying themselves to one person, dismissed the notion of love and saying that it was only for the False God’s insipid disciples. Zelda believed it, of course, or so she liked to tell herself.

\---

Every once in a while, something new appeared on a random part of her body, usually her wrists or arms, somewhere that could easily be seen. Normally, for mortals at least, it was a sign that they wanted to communicate. But seeing as how only imitations of enchantment circles and a few verses in foreign languages appeared, she assumed that they were simply forgetful or didn’t have a scrap of pen and paper nearby and was too lazy to summon one.

Zelda looked forward to it, more than she cared to admit. Normally, it would be a model of some expertly crafted sigil or a verse in a dead language. Sometimes she could understand it, sometimes she could not. It told her that whoever was on the other line of this invisible string was not as dull and boring as she had assumed and was maybe even on the same level of intelligence as her.

It piqued her interests and soon, the thought of having a soulmate did not seem so bad. 

\---

One after another, more sigils and seals appeared on her skin, on her shoulders, her abdomen and chest, only this time they didn’t go away. They were tattoos, she realized. 

A beaming smile tugged on her lips uncontrollably as she admired them in the mirror, hand ghosting and exploring her body now adorned with dozens of various marks, depicting victorious battles of the past and stories from their Unholy Bible. 

Soon, more appeared and she grasped that they were protection spells. The tangible, permanent kind. 

Oddly enough, she felt…safe because of it. As if they were meant to protect her.  
She even briefly considered writing back.

\---

Zelda got home one night after a well spent Lupercalia in the deep, lush forest of Rome. She was still quite tipsy from some wine and practically stumbled into the bedroom of her flat and collapsed onto bed. She was close to falling asleep but a light tingle on her arm had her bolting up. Running a hand through her hair, she leaned against the headboard and inspected her arm. 

Zelda immediately recognized the familiar summoning circle drawn haphazardly on her hand and a drunken smile spread on her lips. It was quite complex but there were some mistakes and if, whoever they were, were to use this, they might as well blow their heads off.

In her slightly intoxicated state, Zelda rummaged through the drawers and cupboards in search of a pen to no avail. She settled for a quick summoning spell and immediately had one in her hand. 

For the first time, she wrote back: a much more complex, almost inscrutable summoning circle to correct the other one that had just appeared on her wrist. She wasn’t exactly sure if it was the alcohol in her system that prompted her to do this but she found herself not giving a damn.

Her soulmate was probably surprised that after almost an eternity of radio silence on her end, she was speaking now, only to blatantly correct them. Eventually, a reply bloomed on her wrist and a small smile settled on her ruby lips.

With a bottle of wine and a pack of cigarettes, the night continued on like that and although they never spoke, only argued with arcane symbols and dead languages, Zelda already enjoyed their company, whoever they were. 

She woke up the next morning covered in marks from head to toe, but she didn’t mind.

\---

A few more weeks passed and on one particular night, after a day well spent with a charming brunette, a mark appeared on her wrist but instead of the usual foreign language or arcane symbol from the other day, a single word was written there in a messy and almost undecipherable scrawl. 

**_Hello?_ **

Zelda smiled at it before getting out of bed and drawing a warm bath.   
As usual, she disposed of the light glamour on her body (the one she used whenever she had company) and admired the tattoos that adorned her skin, briefly deciphering them and mulling over their meaning before she slipped on a silk robe and emerged from the bathroom.

The witch she had just bedded was halfway through putting on her coat and the bright smile she offered Zelda soon turned into a scowl when she spotted the familiar ink decorating her arms and skin, peeking through her silk robe. The witch raised a demeaning brow and tipped her chin up before walking out of the room. 

Zelda never truly cared for what others thought of her but her companion’s reaction to seeing the reminded her on why she never indulged in the mortal spectacle and her smile slipped away. 

A pang of hurt went through her and Zelda quickly wiped away her tears, beseeching herself for even shedding them for such a minor occasion. But she found that she could not stop crying as she spent the night applying a stronger glamour on her body.

She never wrote back.


	2. Chapter 2

More time had passed, more foreign places and strangers in her bed. She never gave the marks much thought anymore. The glamour made sure of that and she stopped looking out of sadness.

After some time, her brother requested her presence back home and she complied, thinking that maybe it was time to go back to Greendale.

On the plane ride back home, a small flower bloomed on her wrist, bleeding through the masking spell.

She smiled.

—-

Zelda arrived in Greendale hours later and was accompanied by her brother at the Academy. They were in his study, catching up when a knock sounded from the door and a dark-haired warlock slipped inside.

He was obviously the type she would gracefully fall into bed with – lean and good looking. Zelda eyed him and bit her lip coquettishly. He fell for her honey coated trap and gave her a devilish smirk in return when Edward turned away for a mere second.

Edward briefly acquainted them, much to her delight, and that was how she found out that the intriguing warlock before her was her brother’s mentor, an unfortunate but thrilling development. Zelda almost rolled her eyes at the look her brother shot her before slipping out of the room, saying that he had something to attend to.

Zelda stood up to meet the man and did not fail to notice the way his gaze raked her form, briefly stopping on the hem of her pencil skirt. She advanced towards him, like a cat circling its prey.

“Faustus Blackwood,” he introduced himself smoothly, holding out a hand. She offered _Faustus_ one of her dazzling smiles that always seemed to do the trick and shook his extended hand.

\---

As the days went by, she found that she was drawn towards him, like opposite ends of a pole. He was as cunning and bright as her and she had always loved indulging in a challenge. Passionate discussions in his study, lingering touches and looks that would have left a weaker witch dead on the floor.

Nevertheless, she avoided falling into bed with him. It wasn’t only because of her teasing nature but also because Zelda knew of the scandals that surrounded his reputation. Knew many of the witches and warlocks that had fallen for his charm before being discarded of. She refused to fall into that pattern, refused to make it easy for him. She hadn’t return to Greendale to be bedded and ditched like some common whore.

She played it off as being flirtatious, batting her eyes at him only to pull back when he leaned forward, most likely to kiss her.

A small voice at the back of her head mused that maybe her pride was not the reason she purposely kept her distance but the fact that she was afraid, frightened of being forsaken by someone who had endeared her heart so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is kinda short but the next chapter isnt that far ahead so i’ll be posting again soon.


	3. Chapter 3

Zelda felt the wards welcome her as he’d crossed the threshold and she teleported just in front of his study. Faustus sat behind his desk, a pen twirling in his hand as he seemed to be deep in thought.

She knocked on the wooden door and got his attention. He immediately offered her a smile, beckoning her inside. “Miss Spellman,” he acknowledged, “to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

Zelda stepped into the room. “Edward was hogging the study and I was wondering if you wanted some company?” Her voice was sweet, flirtatious and light, hiding the crushing weight of her yearning need to be around him. Edward hadn’t exactly prohibited her from using the library in their house, not that he could, but she’d rather spend time here, with him. He was far more interesting than the British bat wit and social climber with a mortal fetish she lived with.

“Always,” he replied with a soft smile and she was pretty sure her stomach flipped. He gestured vaguely to the room, the walls adorned with shelves stacked to the brim with ancient books and sacred scriptures. “All yours.” Smiling in gratitude, she walked over to a corner, inspecting a set of volumes, though she didn’t get very far before her mind turned back to Faustus.

Their unlabeled relationship relied solely on knowledge and academics – for now, at least - and it seemed as though Faustus was her equal, in terms of intelligence and…appearances. Both of them were ambitious and held a frightening devotion to their Dark Lord. If any, Zelda might even say he was her sou-

She shook her head, refocusing her attention to the line of books in front of her. Those thoughts were for gullible mortals. The notion of soulmates had been far from the center of her thoughts these past few months since she had come back to Greendale.

Eventually, she settled on the sofa, just a space beside him but it was enough to make her feel a tad uneasy, very much aware of his presence.

Every now and then, she felt his eyes on her but said nothing and tried very hard to keep her eyes on the book in her hands and not look up and meet his piercing blue eyes, Satan only knew whatever she might do to him in that moment.

“Have you,” he started and she looked up from the book in her hands. “Have you heard from your…soulmate?” The question took her by surprise and she guessed the beat she missed told him that the question was not a topic discussed lightly. He quickly added, “Oh, I apologize, I didn’t mean to overstep. I was just…curious.” He looked at her. “Forget it.”

He dismissed it but Zelda could feel that he did not want to. “No, I just didn’t expect you to be interested in… _that_. I, uh,” she stuttered, unsure on whether or not he was trustworthy enough. As much as she enjoyed his company, she trusted Faustus as far as she could throw him. “Have you?” she asked instead.

A smile spread on his lips. “Are you ever going to answer my questions with something other than questions?”

Zelda huffed and leaned back in her seat, closing the book in her lap. Faustus fully turned to her. She refused to meet his eyes, “I have, but I never gave it much thought really.” She shook her head, finally meeting his gaze. “Have you?”

“Yes,” he replied slowly, “but I don’t think they’re very interested in meeting me.”

“Well, I’m sure they’ll change their minds when they see you.”

Faustus smirked and she didn’t fail to notice the way he inched closer and she bit her lip in anticipation, going back to her book but unable to absorb any of the words.

Zelda felt as though the curtains were raised all of a sudden and she was exposed. She eyed him and wondered if it was the conviction of soulmates that pulled her away from him, the quiet thought that maybe someone else was waiting out there for her and she accidentally fell for this fatally gorgeous man before her. Eventually, his eyes met hers and she found herself not caring anymore and she just wanted to kiss him, soulmates be damned. After all, could anyone be a stronger candidate than him?

Faustus had tensed at first, from shock, most likely, before he started to kiss her back, hand immediately coming up to cradle her face. Oddly enough, the tender gesture felt as though he had never done that to other witches before and only with her. It was soft and messy at first, their noses bumping almost softly as she moved closer to him.

Zelda had kissed many witches and warlocks before and took them to bed but none could truly compare to this.

His hand slipped into her hair, deepening the kiss. She moaned in response and it only spurred him on for he had pulled her into his lap immediately, his hands digging into her hips. They parted, foreheads touching as they panted lightly before he started to kiss lower, lips latching onto the soft flesh of her neck. Zelda grasped his lean shoulder, breath hitching as her mind clouded with lust. She buried her hands in his hair, tugging lightly before leaning down to capture his lips once more, an almost animalistic groan of pleasure ripped from her throat as he apparated them to his bedroom.

After a few minutes of stumbling in the dark, divesting the other of their clothes and trying to find the satanforsaken bed, she wrapped her legs around his still clothed middle beckoning him off the wall until the back of his knees hit the bed. All thoughts were gone from her head as she ended up straddling his waist, left only in her brassiere and pleated black skirt that hitched up her thighs little by little.

“Zels,” Faustus breathed, the sweet moniker hitting stronger than heroin. “Are you sure?”

Zelda was touched that he would even bother to ask, as if she had not been the one that gave in first. She wondered if he was also like this with those other witches and warlocks, so invigoratingly sweet and gentle as if she were made of fine porcelain that she felt a wave of heat creep up to her chest and cheeks. She was blushing.

Forcing herself to met his eyes, she nodded wordlessly and she swore she heard him mutter a soft “oh, Praise Satan” before leaning up to claim her lips and drag her down with him. The warmth radiating off of him was too good and Zelda pondered if sex always felt this bloody great or if it was just with him.

With deft fingers and her lips still on his, she unbuttoned his shirt, hoisting herself up to get a good look at him. She felt as though she was just crushed by an anvil as she saw, even in the poorly lit room, the marks, _those familiar marks,_ that adorned his chest.

Zelda should have prepared herself for this moment, she thought, because the emotions that swirled inside her was uncontrollable and she couldn’t even begin to grasp what they were. Surprise? Glee? Fear?

Everything was blurred and dingy as Faustus was oblivious to her discovery as he started to trail kisses on her neck. She had the brief thought to just bloody bolt and disappear because _he doesn’t know._ The glamour was still fully intact.

“Faustus,” she breathed, suddenly running out of air. “ _Faustus._ ”

He blinked, looking up at her. “What?” he muttered, hand coming up to cradle her face again, as if wanting to get a better view of her.

Suddenly, not knowing how or even _why_ , she started crying. And she guessed it must have startled him because she felt him pull back a little from her. Her hair started to curtain her face as soft sobs shook her form and Faustus looked properly confused and disconcerted.

Once he got a hold of himself, he quickly asked her, “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” He pushed back some hair from her face and the tender gesture helped calm her down. Oh, Satan in Hell. How the mortal fates hated her. “Zee, you’re scaring me, what is it?”

Zelda shook her head. “I’m fine, it’s just…your,” she placed a hand on his bare chest, tracing the tattoos that decorated his skin, trailing from up his shoulders to his abdomen. She wondered how she hadn’t noticed before.

Zelda smiled, a contrast to her recent emotions, snaking her arms around his neck to pull him closer again. “Your tattoos,” she whispered.

“What about them?” He ran a hand through her hair. She loved that he had quite the fascination with it.

She closed her eyes and when she opened them, she was as bare as anyone in hiding could be.

Faustus’ eyes momentarily widened, eyes on her skin that was covered with the same marks on his so suddenly. He knew what it meant. They both did.

“Zelda-” Faustus started but she immediately cut him off with a kiss, hungry and coveting this time with the priority to drown the brevity of the situation. She was satisfied at how easily Faustus had succumbed to her, melting into her touch immediately and almost instinctively. She didn’t want to deal with it now, afraid of what his reaction might be.

He gasped in between kisses, trying to catch his breath while simultaneously trying to get a good look on her. Zelda pulled back, lips bruised and eyelids heavy with lust as she tried to focus on him and his hands tracing her bare skin. It all felt so good but the fear in the back of her head, telling her to bolt kept trying to claw its way out. She wasn’t ready to deal with their sudden discovery now and he seemed to understand, giving her a small, almost reassuring nod before placing a soft kiss on her lips and he took her to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive never written anything nsfw before so just bear with me here. theres a storm rn so im posting this in the dead of night to hopefully get spammed by comments tmrw lol. i really hope some people enjoyed reading this bc i love whatever monstrosity i just created. hope yall r having a great day ! <3

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of Faustus's tattoos as protection spells seems fitting because he has some kind of reputation since he's in the running for the seat of High Priest so people would try to curse or hex him all the time. Same with all the prominent faces in the history of magic, Crowley probably had a lot of tattoos too. 
> 
> Also, many thanks to my beta for doing such an amazing, wonderful job. 
> 
> <33


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